


Love Notes

by theladyofthedarkcastle



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Little bit of Fluff, Little bit of smut, RSS 2014, Rumbelle Secret Santa, fluff smut!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 13:25:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2813564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theladyofthedarkcastle/pseuds/theladyofthedarkcastle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle French has always dreamed of being a singer and competing on the singing competition Last Note Standing.  Robert Gold has been a vocal coach on Last Note Standing for years, but has lost the passion he once held for finding great talent.  </p><p>Original prompt: Singing TV Competition!Gold, Contestant!Belle</p><p>Written for fuckingnamechoise as part of the Rumbelle Secret Santa 2014 on Tumblr!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“This is Last Note Standing”, Cora Mills announced, like she did every Tuesday and Wednesday. Belle French let out a small squeal. It was the best part of her week, watching this show. Her momma said it was silly, said that no ten year old should waste her time wishing to be on it when she could be studying for her exams. Belle didn’t care. 

She settled herself down on the couch in front of the television set, blanket around her shoulders, popcorn in her lap. This particular season had just wrapped up its audition phase and Belle was more than ready to get to know the singers who’d be sticking around for a while. She grabbed the little notebook and pencil she kept on the side table to take notes on the singers. 

“Belle, darling, did you finish all your homework and chores?” Her mom’s voice floated down from the upstairs. 

“Yes, Mum!” Belle hollered back. She’d never jeopardize not being able to watch Standing. 

Turning her attention back to the TV, she hummed along with the now familiar theme music. This was only the second season of the show, but Belle, and the rest of America, was hooked. She loved everything about the show, the cross country auditions, the witty judges, the incredible talent, and the world class vocal coaches. 

There's just something about music. Music had always been important to Belle. Her earliest memories involved some sort of singing. She could usually get her mum to even chime in on a duet. 

People told her she had a good voice for a ten year old but that wasn't good enough for Belle. No, she needed a bigger stamp of approval, a firmer confirmation that she was doing the right thing, dreaming of a life spent in song. 

Most ten year olds dreamt of jobs like being a teacher or a scientist. Something that was achievable. Belle just wanted to sing. She also wasn't like most ten year olds. 

She turned her attention back to the television eager to get her first glimpse of her favorite vocal coach, Robert Gold. 

Each coach got to pick a handful of singers and train them to sing for the judges each week. They didn't have a say in who went home, but the proper training was a huge advantage. 

Each judge had had their own distinguished career. Or was still in the midst of it. Emma Swan was one of the best R&B singers on the charts right now. The striking blonde was as crisp and to the point as her famous riffs. David Nolan was a country superstar, though he wasn’t really making albums anymore. And then, finally, was Belle’s favorite coach. Robert Gold. He was the only coach who had never actually been a singer. He’d played bass for a band about ten years ago but Belle didn’t care much about that. He’d made his mark being the most ruthless producer in the industry. He was the most ruthless of the coaches, he had a reputation of being a pit of a grouch, but no one could deny he was the best at picking stars. 

And he was kinda cute. 

In an older guy kinda way. Belle had looked him up online, he was thirty seven this year. It didn’t bother her that he was older. She wanted to impress him with her voice. One day, she’d be one of his students and she’d win. 

Cora was cycling through the vocalists that had made it this far in the competition. Every so often, the camera would cut away and let one of the judges make a comment. Of the three judges, Belle only liked one. Regina Garraway was sharp tongued and never had anything good to say. Mary Margaret Nolan, David’s wife, was too nice. There was no point in judging anything if you didn’t offer something for the artist to work on, and then there was Neal Gold. 

Belle knew she was probably a little biased because Neal was Robert’s son, but according to the internet they were estranged. Belle liked Neal best because a contestant not only had to work for his praise but his criticism was actually helpful. 

A poor girl onscreen was getting blasted by Regina for looking too much like a “tart”. Belle didn’t know what that had to do with anything. Yes, looks helped in the industry, but it was your voice that mattered most. 

The screen panned to the coaches voting on which one of them was going to take responsibility for the slightly incorrectly dressed girl. Belle munched eagerly, she felt like this girl could be worth it. She’d be work but she’d be worth it. 

Robert Gold stepped forward to claim the girl. Belle smiled. She’d be right, Robert would help the girl and in a few years time, that girl would be her.


	2. Chapter 2

Robert Gold heaved a sigh. Last Note Standing had just finished audition processes for its twelfth season. The past ten years had been filled with the same slew of somewhat decent contestants, petty banter, and mediocre records. 

How far he had fallen. 

In the not so distant past, he had been one of the few remaining moguls of the music industry. He still owned Spinner Records, a play on the now ancient technology of a needle used to play a record, but it wasn’t as successful as it once had been. 

When he and his wife of five years, Milah, had split up, the company had been the only thing keeping him going. His son hadn’t wanted anything to do with his workaholic, oft absent father. 

As the digital music pirating became more and more popular, as well as people being able to mass produce music on their own, his company had taken another hit. The industry was changing around him and so he’s signed on to do this damned show. And then they had hired his son. 

Irony of ironies, Robert now saw his son more than he had his entire childhood but still very rarely talked to him. It was a wonder Neal ever had anything good to say about his contestants. 

Gold looked up at the tap on his door, it was his makeup artist informing him that it was only 10 min to filming and did he need more powder? 

He dismissed the girl with a wave of his hand. He’d gotten to see footage of the singers’ auditions that had made it to this round. It gave him the opportunity to see if there was anyone he was really excited about. 

He wasn’t. 

It was the same as always, good looking guys, better looking girls, stereotypical voices. Well, all except one. There was one girl, he grudgingly admitted who seemed to have a voice straight from heaven itself, but she’d been the final wild card pick, so she hadn’t been able to wow the judges the first time around. 

He dragged himself out of his chair, grabbing his sheet of notes and an extra water bottle and headed out the door. Following the path to the main stage area, he saw that most of the other judges, coaches, and contestants were already present. Good. He could just take his place and avoid talking to anyone else. 

The judges had already taken their seats and were being touched over by the makeup people one last time. He saw David wave at him from his seat, which was next to the empty one that was his own. The contestants were huddled in a clump on stage. This was their first live performance and if they weren’t already nervous, Gold would make sure to do his part to help those nerves along. 

A crew member flittered around from group to group making sure everything was sitting correctly in the lights and camera angles. It was time to do his job. If he was being honest with himself, and he rarely was, this was the most stressful part of any season. Whichever three of the nine remaining contestants he ended up with, he’d be stuck with until the season ended or they got voted off. Gold’s pride was too great to wish his own contestants to be voted off, which meant he’d put effort into training them, help them wow the judges and America, and be stuck with them until the end of the season. Almost three months with these people. 

He had to make sure he got the ones he’d determined were the least annoying. 

He heard the directors call for warm ups and the live audience simultaneously. Most people didn’t realize that the judges actually heard parts of a contestant’s performance even though this was a “live” show. They were singers and singers were allowed to warm up, right? 

Gold quickly crossed the stage and took his seat. This was when he always made his best decisions. 

You can learn a lot about a performer when they’re in the middle of a performance. How that person deals with stress, with the spotlight, with everyone’s eyes on them, but their actions during a warm up were much more indicative of their character as an artist and a person. 

Last Note Standing filmed in front of a live studio audience to heighten the stakes for the singer and to give feedback, noise wise, and they were allowed to file in while the singers were warming up. Basically, it was noisy. The judges the singers would come to fear, if they didn’t already, along with the coaches they were so desperate to please, were already present but not fully paying attention to them. This combination had been the most heady that Gold had come across in his decade as a coach. Most singers were egotistical artists, if the eyes weren’t on them, they got unhappy. 

Those were the people Gold did not want to work with. 

One by one, the singers stepped forward allowing the crew member next to the mic stand to adjust it as needed. They were allowed ten to fifteen seconds of their chosen song and as long as the speakers didn’t throw up feedback, they were dismissed. Gaston Le’Fou was the first to step forward and Gold crossed his name off his list before he even opened his mouth. The boy had been raised thinking the greatest gift to the singing world was his voice. He’d been raised adjacent to a Broadway stage and the pretentiousness of his changed name matched his vocal inflections perfectly. 

Gold wanted nothing to do with him. 

Minutes passed and Gold made more strikethroughs than actual comments next to a name. This year was going to be rough. Ruby Lucas showed a little talent albeit packaged distastefully and Jefferson March could actually sing. Gold tapped the pen against his pad lightly...he still needed one more vocalist. 

The final singer of the warm up stepped up to the mike, pausing as the crew member had to lower the mic quite substantially so the tiny woman could sing into it. She was strikingly beautiful, that much was apparent from all the way across the stage. Her tiny frame was swathed in a flowing, floor length dress in a lovely coral. The overall look was classic and not too flashy. 

Gold consulted his notes, ah, this was the wildcard pick, the one that had literally snuck in at the wire. Gold snorted to himself. If she hadn’t been good enough to gain entry to the competition right off the bat, why would she be worth his time. He raised his pen, prepared to cross off her name, Belle French, off the paper before the first note of her song had even blared through the speakers, then, he heard her voice. 

Amplified by the extremely live mic sitting not six inches from her mouth, her voice, a most lovely warm tone, tinted with an Australian accent that lilted pleasingly, echoed through the room as she thanked the crew member for his help. That was interesting. Her speaking voice was incredibly pleasant to the ear. The smooth notes of a power ballad blasted through the speakers as the singer swallowed noticeably. Good. She was nervous. 

The woman took a breath and began the first couple notes of her song. As soon as the sound reached his ears, Gold had to physically stop his mouth from dropping open. On the tape the woman had been good but nothing to write home about, in person, she was astonishing. He glanced around, looking at David and Emma sitting beside him, they couldn’t be allowed anywhere near this girl. He had to coach her, had to have her on his team. 

There was something special about her. 

She finished her soundcheck and smiled brightly at the judges and in his direction, Coaches Corner he knew the contestants had dubbed it, before walking jauntily off the stage. Gold glanced down at his notebook. He had little check marks next to Lucas and March’s names. They were important, they’d round out his team, but Belle, Belle was the one that had the best chance of winning. He smiled to himself, this was definitely going to be his year.


	3. Chapter 3

Belle peaked anxiously around the curtain almost immediately drawing her head back. Not only did she not want to be seen by someone’s wandering eyes, but the room was packed. They’d only ever done rehearsals on the main stage, there wasn’t an audience presence and all the extra people simply made her nerves intensify. She’d seen the audience trickling during her warm up, the low murmur of so many voices completely disconcerting, but now they were all silent and ready to put all their undivided attention on her, or as much undivided attention as a room full of a couple hundred people could put. 

This was the moment, the moment she’d been dreaming of since she was that bright eyed ten year old girl. She knew her parents were somewhere in the audience, they’d become more grudgingly supportive about her singing as the years had passed and they’d realized she was serious about pursuing a career in music. Now she was waiting to perform live for not only the audience and the American public, but the judges and coaches she’d idolized since childhood. And one of those coaches would choose her to be on their team, to teach her their wisdom. 

In the ten years she’d been following the show, she’d only become more sure of Robert Gold’s prowess as a vocal coach. More years than not, his contestant walked away with the title at the end and age had only heightened his good looks. Belle was thankful to be here at all, she’d slipped in during the wild card round, so she knew she’d be happy with David or Emma, but her heart of hearts wanted Robert Gold. 

The butterflies in her stomach increased tenfold as a smattering of applause signaled the end of Ruby’s performance. The woman herself popped through the curtain, sweaty but smiling. 

“Wow! That was like nothing I’ve ever done, and I got picked by Gold!” She squealed, bouncing slightly on her gigantic heels. “Good luck, Belle! You’ll do great!” 

Belle paled slightly, Ruby’s status in the competition having just been raised. She also had to swallow down the lump of jealousy forming in her throat. Each coach only got to pick three people to work with and Ruby was Gold’s second pick. She’d had to be flawless to even hope of drawing his attention. 

Ruby turned from the doorway to the dressing rooms, as if sensing Belle’s change in demeanor. “Seriously, Belle, chin up. Go sing your heart out. I don’t care what anyone says, you deserve to be here.” 

Belle smiled weakly. If she ended up on Gold’s team at least she’d have a friend throughout the competition. She peaked towards the curtain again, waiting for the crew member to give her the signal to move. 

“Good luck, French.” Gaston Le’Fou leered from behind her. The hulking brute was a Broadway reject who thought he’d try his hands at the pop charts. Belle wasn’t one to dislike people immediately, but ten minutes in Gaston’s presence had solidified her decision that he was someone to stay away from. He was singing after her and had been unhelpfully commenting on every little thing she did. 

“Thank you, Gaston.” Belle gritted out. Nerves or not, a star couldn’t afford not to always be polite. She glanced back down as the crew member nodded to her. It was time. 

Moving through the curtain felt like stepping into another world. Not only was the entire room stuffed with people, but the full blast of the noise and lights unleashed a torrent of heat over her body. She was glad she knew the judges table was directly to the right side of the stage, the coaches were seated off to the left because the glare from the lights left her practically blind. 

She made it to center stage without tripping, thank goodness, and stood nervously in front of the mic. She smiled slightly towards the audience, or towards the direction of the audience. Eventually she’d play to them more to try and win votes, but for now, she simply wanted to make it through her song without being sick on stage. 

Belle had sung in front of plenty of audiences throughout her life but nothing could have prepared her for hearing the intro notes of her song and knowing she had to sing for literally millions of people. 

The introduction wound down, her entrance quickly approaching. She spared one more glance in the direction of Coaches Corner praying something she did would attract Robert Gold and then Belle opened her mouth, and sang.


	4. Chapter 4

Robert Gold clapped politely as Ruby Lucas walked off the stage, smiling to himself that he managed to secure her as one of his picks. He glanced over at David and Emma trying to gauge their reactions. Emma had fought him valiantly over the girl, but Gold had succeeded. He usually did. He now had two of the three artists he desired, no one had fought him over Jefferson March. The man’s choice of fusing rap, pop, and techno was something borderline insane, but Gold was infamous for predicting trends and March had all the signs of a fantastic artist or possibly a DJ. 

There were three singers waiting to perform and each coach still had one choice. Belle French was up next followed by the oaf Gaston Le’Fou and then Ariel Finnigan had drawn the closing spot. 

Cora stepped back down the stage to announce Belle’s song. Gold rolled his eyes. The past ten hadn’t done her any favors. A has been actress, this gig was the only way she’d even get on TV anymore and Cora took it. She was as poisonous as she was conniving. Gold couldn’t stand her. She’d flirted with him after Milah left and he’d taken her on one date before he realized she’d only wanted him to try and start a music career. 

It was just his luck when she’d signed on to be the host of this damned show. But the past was the past and Gold watched his future glide out on the stage. Though he’d seen her a mere two hours ago, Belle French looked even more beautiful now than she did for warm ups. Her make up had been polished and her hair was sitting perfectly. As a coach, he knew having a beautiful artist did nothing but help sales, but as a man, well, even he could appreciate a beautiful woman and Belle French was easily the most breathtaking woman he’d ever laid eyes on. 

Her nerves also seemed to have tripled since he saw her last, if her shaking hands were any indication. 

He saw her smile towards the audience, good, she had enough mind to play to the people that would ultimately buy her work, and then the first notes of her song thrummed through the speaker system. French had chosen a power ballad as the song to wow himself and the other coaches. It was bold move on her part. Power ballads took a distinct voice that most artists didn’t have in their repertoires. All the artists, if they made it far enough, would have to perform one as part of the weekly song challenge, but French had taken the risk on her own. 

Gold could admire an artist that was willing to take risks, it showed a certain level of bravery that was necessary for surviving in the business, but bravery could degrade into stupidity far too quickly for his tastes. 

He looked down at the paper on his lap, ready to take some actual notes on French. Now that he’d made the initial decision to take her he wanted to have some concrete comments for their first meeting. 

All logical thought flew out the window as Belle French began to sing. She’d been holding back in her sound check. From the moment her lovely contralto voice caressed the first two notes, he was hooked. The audience started reacting wildly and even Regina sat up straighter across the room. The song moved with French, or rather French moved it. Every note was clear and crisp, ringing through even the furthest rafters. 

Gold glanced over at David and Emma, crap, they were definitely going to fight him for Belle French now. David hadn’t fought the urge to let his mouth hang open and Emma was sitting back with that smug look on her face that managed to say, only I can handle something this amazing. He couldn’t let French end up anywhere near them. 

With nine singers performing that evening, the individual artists themselves weren’t able to sing the entirety of their numbers, strictly for time’s sake. They really only got to sing for about forty five seconds, but French was making it feel like minutes. The power ballad sat perfectly in her vocal range and highlighted the more husky timbre of her singing voice. 

The last deafening note resonated through the auditorium, echoing almost painfully in the silence. 

Gold didn’t bother to hide the smirk that was gracing his face. This was everything an artist should dream of. Most people assume you want applause after finishing a piece, but there’s something better, an audience so stunned they can’t even clap. A beat or two later brains caught up with hands and the resulting cheering was loud even to him all the way at the front. 

On stage, Belle French looked like she’d just run a marathon. 

As the applause died down, French stepped over towards the judges table, she’d have to get pointless feedback before he could fight for her. 

Gold paused as that particular thought ran through his head. When was the last time he’d actually fought for something he believed in? Not for a long while that was sure. What was is about this woman that made him feel something besides the intense apathy he’d been plagued with since Milah left? 

There wasn’t time to sit and overanalyze at the moment. He didn’t care about what Regina or Mary Margaret had to say, but he’d never not listen while he son was speaking. He’d spend Neal’s childhood ignoring his words, he damn well wouldn’t waste anymore of them. 

“Wow. You were really a surprise.” Neal was saying, “To be honest, with you being the last wild card, we weren’t really sure what we were going to get from you in such a big arena, but I will say, you really surprised us all. Watch the top of your range, you sound like you’re forcing yourself to strain for some of those upper notes, but overall, that was good.” 

Gold smiled to himself. The fact that his son had such a grasp of not only the music industry but how to make people listen when he spoke was something he’d only dreamed of actually teaching his son. It was a miracle he’d learned on his own, but not a miracle Gold was going to argue with. 

He drew his thoughts away from Neal as French turned towards the coaches, walking to the cue on the floor in front of their seats. The lights flared above his head, illuminating not only himself, but Belle as well. 

This close to him, she was even more beautiful than she’d been at the height of her performance. Goodness her eyes were blue. They flicked over David and Emma before settling on himself. He fought the urge to squirm a little as her gaze flittered over him. He was one of the best vocal coaches in the business and this tiny newbie was sizing him up? He sat up a little straighter. No matter, he could install the proper amount of fear in her after he’d secured her spot on his team. 

David was the first coach to plead his case to French and Gold tried not to snicker as he obviously had to pause and collect his thoughts. “Um…” he stuttered, seriously off to a smashing start, “Wow, Belle. That was gorgeous. I didn’t know you had that in you.” He paused and flashed his trademark David Nolan smile towards her. “I think I could definitely help to maintain that high level of quality throughout this competition. I definitely want you as one of my singers.” 

Gold grimaced as the audience clapped. He’d hoped that by some random miracle, David wouldn’t have want her. He turned to Emma as the applause died down. He had a feeling the feisty blonde wouldn’t go down without a fight. 

“Belle,” Emma greeted warmly. “That was beautiful. Seriously why’d you hold back in your earlier auditions? If you’d sang like that, you’d never had seen the wild card round.” Emma laughed slightly as a blush crept over French on stage. Emma was correct but at this point there wasn’t much sense in pointing out that particular fact. “All joking aside, your voice is definitely something special and I think the range of your voice would be fantastically suited to R&B. I think you’d be the perfect final piece of my team.” 

The audience applauded once more and then, finally, quieted down as all eyes swung to him. 

“Ms. French,” he began, his brogue sliding smoothly over her surname. “I think the fact that everyone was surprised by your performance is almost insulting. You’ve always had the tells of a magical voice and tonight finally showcased it. You have to showcase it every single time to be successful, however, and that’s where I come in. You’ll be the perfect crown jewel to my roster.” He half smiled at her, knowing the battle with David and Emma was only just beginning. Since all three of them were interested they’d have two minutes of private deliberation during the commercial break before they were forced to agree on something. If they seriously couldn’t agree, Gold thought a coin was tossed or something, but it had never gotten that far in the history of the show. 

A crew member signaled the start of the commercial break and Gold immediately turned to his co-coaches. “I want her.” 

David snorted, “Obviously. I want her too.” 

“Okay gentlemen. Your little petty banter was not only witty but pointless, Belle French is mine. She needs a strong woman coach.” Emma leaned back in her chair with her arms crossed, obviously pleased with herself. 

Gold laughed not totally kindly. “You two are mistaken. This is not a debate. I’m informing you that I am claiming Ms. French.” 

David and Emma both stared at him as if surprised he was taking a stand. Well, in their defense, it wasn’t something he did very often. 

“No way Gold.” Emma fired back. “We have to come to some kind of agreement remember? I am not agreeing to just cower behind you and give up the chance to work with an unknown with this much raw ability.” 

“Agreed.” David said, apparently just needing the one world to convey the depths of his emotions. Such a country artist. 

Gold allowed his trademark smirk to grace his face as a thought occurred to him, “Well then, dearies, I guess we’ll have to make a deal.” 

Emma’s eyes blinked open in shock. “This girl is so important to you that you want to deal for her?! No way I’m backing down then.” 

“One minute!” The AD hollered from somewhere backstage. Great. Now things were going to have to escalate and he’d be damned if he lost Belle French to a flipping coin toss. 

Gold growled deep in his throat. There was no way they were going to make any sort of decision in a minute. 

“Thirty seconds!” 

Emma giggled and Gold physically recoiled from the sound. Everything he wanted was practically in his reach and he was about to lose it. He was about to lose it to fucking chance. 

“And we’re back in three...two…” The AD made the slashing motion that signaled the cameras and Gold was out of time. In all the time he’d been squabbling with David and Emma, he hadn’t even bothered to look up at French. Realizing his mistake, he quickly glanced up at her, trying to gauge her reaction to what was going on. Did she care who her coach was? The contestants didn’t have a say in who they worked with, most were just happy to be on the show in the first place. 

Cora was rambling about something to draw the viewing audience back to their screens and all too soon, the lights flared up on him once more. 

“Since the coaches could not come to a decision,” Cora was saying, sounding oddly gleeful about what was going to happen, “for the first time in Last Note Standing history, there will be a random number draw to see who works with Belle French.” 

Great. Fucking great. At least a coin toss had 50/50 odds, with three numbers in the pool, his odds had dwindled even more. 

Cora had gestured at a stage hand to bring her the little bag with the coaches names in it when the unthinkable happened. 

Belle French stepped forward and took the bag from the stage hand snatching it almost directly out of Cora’s grasp. He wanted to laugh as he saw her face. Belle French had fire. Emma’s mouth was hanging open and David just looked like he’d swallowed something extremely spicy. The contestant wasn’t supposed to interfere with this, they were just supposed to let it happen. 

“Since this is going to make the history of the show either way,” French began, her voice was strong despite the fear he could see creeping into her eyes and posture. “No one decides my fate but me. I choose Robert Gold as my coach.” 

Gold’s face went slack as the audience erupted into chatters. What had just happened?! She couldn’t do that. But then, as she’d pointed out, this was making Standing history. He schooled his features into something resembling smugness. She’d chosen him. Why? Well he’d certainly never know, but he wasn’t about to argue with him. 

The stagehands had gotten the audience to quiet down enough to allow him to speak. He shifted forward in his chair and looked Belle French up and down letting his gaze remind her of the gravity of this decision. 

“Are you sure, dearie?” He asked, somehow feeling like what he was saying was especially monumental. “You can’t change your mind later.” 

“Yes.” She replied, the fear in her eyes slowly being replaced with the glint of her resolved attitude. “I’m sure.” 

“Well then,” Gold almost clapped his hands in glee. “The deal is struck.”


	5. Chapter 5

It had been six weeks since that fateful day when Belle took her fate into her own hands. Choosing Robert Gold instead of giving her career over to chance had been the best decision Belle had made in well, forever. 

The past weeks had been more than she could have dreamed for. Robert, as she called him in her head, was even more amazing than he was on TV. Belle hadn’t even imagined that could be possible, but it was. 

He’d shaped her into an artist more than ready to take the music business by storm. He’d helped her through obstacle after obstacle. Every week he’d had the most perfect song for her to work on, making sure it fit in with the theme for the week and after she got it down, he’d finetune it until it was perfect. Now there were only three people left, herself, Ruby, and one of Emma’s contestants Aurora Stephens. Belle was thankful she’d made it this far at all, let alone standing next to two talented women. After Gold had caught her trying to sabotage Gaston’s music for Broadway week, she was certain they’d kick her out, but Gold had reasoned with her and the fact that Gaston was so darn unlikeable had gotten him sent home all on his own. 

Now, only two weeks stood between her and the Last Note Standing crown, the tour, and hopefully, a record deal. Winning the show didn’t guarantee her a record contract, but no winner hadn’t gotten one. Robert would offer her one even if she didn’t win, of that Belle was certain. He was renowned for his manners and ruthless behaviour but underneath the mask of the terrifying vocal coach and label owner, he was a truly kind, generous man. He cared about her passion for music, her desire to sing. Every week he made sure she was the most prepared she could be to face the judges and the public. 

Belle had fallen in love with him. 

She didn’t want to, she wasn’t even sure where it had come from, but she’d realized that was the only explanation for what she was feeling. She was attracted to him, that part she’d easily figured out. Just being around him had left her feeling fluttery and unfulfilled reduced to squirming when he wasn’t looking, but being able to see the kind man lurking beneath the shadows had solidified her feelings. 

Robert always left her feeling full of light. The feeling she got when she sang, the soaring in her stomach, the thought that at any moment the notes were going to pick her up and carry her was the same thing she felt when he looked at her. 

She only had to work with him for three more songs and then she’d be reduced to a mere client, if she was even lucky enough to be that. She paused outside the door to Robert’s small practice studio. She was brave enough to pick Robert that first day, maybe she could be brave enough to pick him again. 

Nothing ventured, nothing gained right? Do the brave thing and bravery always follows. Or sometimes follows. Belle shook her head. She couldn’t overthink things. 

She raised her hand to knock on the door as it swung open and Neal’s frame filled the doorway. 

“Okay, see you later Papa!” He said in farewell. “Oh hey Belle.” 

“Hello Mr. Gold.” Belle replied, smiling softly. Robert and his son had reconciled a couple weeks ago after she’d implored him, reminding him of the importance of family. Their relationship might not be good yet, but they were talking. It was a start. 

“I’ve told you Belle, it’s Neal. Mr. Gold is that grump in there.” Neal laughed as his father’s voice floated out to them. 

“I heard that son!” 

Belle giggled before moving into the room and closing the door behind herself. “Hello Mr. Gold.” She greeted him quietly. He looked up from the piano bench he was sitting on and smiled softly. 

“Hello Ms. French.” These past weeks had softened him too, now that Belle was honest with herself. Maybe her crush wasn’t as stupid as she thought it was.

“I picked my song for this week.” Belle commented, feining nonchalance as she moved to stand closer to him. 

“What’d you go with? It’s a free pick so you can’t waste it.” He hummed in contemplation. “We need something to remind them why your voice is so beautiful.” 

Belle froze. “You think my voice is beautiful?” 

It was Robert’s turn to freeze, obviously flustered by what he said. 

Belle licked her lips, unsure why her mouth was so dry. “I mean, it’s okay. You’ve done more than enough to help me these past few weeks. I know my voice isn’t spectacular…” Her voice trailed off as she stared down at the floor. What was she doing? She’d meant to come in here and possibly admit at least a feeling a friendship and now she was as self-deprecating to Robert as she was to herself. He was going to think she was crazy. 

She kept staring at the pattern on the floor. Perhaps she could pretend she hadn’t spoken. Robert was professional enough to ignore it. A small scrape alerted her to the fact that Robert was standing up. Oh no. This was it. He was going to rebuff her and then everything would be over. 

She’d practically stopped breathing by the time Robert was standing in front of her. She knew he was there simply from the fact that she could see his shoes. She felt his hand cup her cheek gently and draw her gaze up to his own. 

“Ms. French…” he began, stopping as he took in her expression. “Um, I mean Belle…”

Belle smiled as he spoke her given name. It was a constant topic of debate between the two of them. Belle called Robert by his first name to attempt closeness, Robert used her last to avoid the same thing. She’d called him on it a couple weeks ago and he’d taken to occasionally using her Christian name. 

“Belle,” he began again, thumb brushing light circles over her cheek, “you have a simply beautiful voice.” 

A blush crept its way up her cheek while a heat spiraled down her stomach stopping to pool between her legs. She’d have to say something or back away. Now. Feeling and emotion were threatening to overwhelm to the point of irrationality. 

Robert’s other hand slide up her side to settle on her waist, the first still drawing maddening patterns on her skin. “And,” he continued. “I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

Belle heard her own gasp before realizing she’d opened her mouth. “Robert.” She breathed. “Robert. Stop. Don’t say those things unless you mean them. I...I’ve wanted this for so long. Don’t say them if you don’t mean them.” 

Robert’s eyes were the warmest Belle could ever remember seeing them as he gazed down into her own. Belle could read the myriad of emotions dancing through his depths as clearly as if he’d shouted his feelings from a rooftop. There was love there. He loved her. 

Any coherent thought Belle might have had flew out of her mind as Robert lowered his mouth to hers. As soon as his lips touched her own his hands tightened their grip crashing their bodies together. 

Belle traced her tongue over the outline of Robert’s lips unable to hold back the moan of pleasure as he opened to allow her tongue to slip into his depths. 

She smiled against his mouth as her hands slid up his sides to untuck the dress shirt from his pants, disheveling the man who was always so put together. Her hands explored as much as her mouth did and she wasn’t sure which part of her caused him to yelp, the hand ghosting over one of his nipples or her tongue caressing his own. 

One of Robert’s hands had been gliding up towards Belle’s chest but paused before changing direction and slipping over her jeans to cup her ass. He pulled her slight weight up, encouraging her to twine her legs around his as he walked her backwards towards the lone couch he kept in the back of the studio. 

She dropped into the pile of pillows with a thump, unable to stop her breath from coming in pants. Her hands lept towards Robert’s belt as it was presented so nicely for her. She made quick work of the leather, the belt hitting the floor with a soft clink and she leaned forward to kiss the slight bulge in his pants. 

The noise she heard Robert make above her was easily more beautiful than any note she’d ever heard sung. 

“Belle, darling, you don’t have to do that.” Robert’s voice interrupted her hands from their unbuttoning of his fly. 

“Robert, I want to do this.” Belle replied, more interested in getting his pants off than anything else in the moment. Above her, he braced his hands against the wall as she finally eased down his zipper and tugged her pants and boxers down. 

His hard length sprung into her waiting hands and the hiss of pleasure Robert couldn’t restrain filled her with a feminine sense of pride. He was thick in her hand and literally pulsing, a glossy bead coating his tip. She pressed the pad of her thumb onto the spot sliding the liquid around slowly. One of his hands left the wall to tangle in her curls and she stifled a giggle. 

“Feel nice, love?” 

All that answered her was a grunt. 

She leaned forward slightly, blowing gently on the entirety of his cock before parting her lips and licking him firmly from base to tip. If he hadn’t been holding onto the wall, and her hair, Belle knew he would’ve fallen as soon as her tongue touched his flesh. She continued with firm licks up and down his length, paying special attention to a little spot just underneath the head of his cock. She made it to the top once more before pressing a gentle kiss to his crying slit and opening to welcome his cock into her mouth. 

A moment before her tongue made contact with his length, it was gone, Robert having sank onto his knees in front of her. He replaced his cock with his mouth, dropping a most gentle kiss onto her lips. 

“Thank you, darling, but I...I don’t think I could last through that.” He sounded strangely out of breath. 

Belle smiled as his hands finally reached her breasts, cupping gently before surrounding her aching nipples and pinching through her shirt. This time it was her moan filling the room as Robert caressed her swollen flesh. “Oh,” she panted, “Oh Robert. Harder.” 

He brought his mouth down to hers, kissing her deeply as his hands continued their magic. She brought her legs up around his waist, trying desperately to gain friction against her throbbing core. She needed more than gentle caresses at this point. The cloth of her skirt and underwear pressing against Robert’s naked cock wasn’t providing nearly enough pressure so Belle decided to take matters into her own hands. She pawed at her zipper until it finally relented and wiggled her butt until her skirt joined Robert’s pants on the floor. The sight of her in her lacy underthings was enough to get Robert to pause in his ministrations on her mouth. 

He leaned back to take in her body with his gaze. Belle had never felt more love in a gaze then she did in that moment. As much as Robert was dissecting her with his eyes, she felt she had the right to return the fact. She took in every inch of him, from his mussed hair to his glistening cock, straining to be inside her. The only thing left on his body was his shirt and that was easy enough to get rid of. She slid one button open at a time as she felt Robert to the same for her. Soon enough, both shirts hit the ground with a soft thump and she directed Robert’s long fingers to the clasp of her bra. 

“Belle.” His voice sounded so hoarse and strangled. “Belle. I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you. I’m not only doing this because you’re talented, even though you’re so so talented, darling. You’re the most talented person I’ve met. And so kind, and beautiful. And if this is the only memory you’ll give me, I’m sorry I’m so weak I have to take it and…” 

Belle’s heart swelled through his speech, beating faster and faster. She reached around and unclasped the bra herself, pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of Robert’s mouth as she sat up to divest herself of the garment. His eyes widened even more as he saw her unblemished breasts for the first time. Belle knew they weren’t exactly big by anyone’s standards, but something in Robert’s eyes told her he found them perfect. 

“Robert.” She spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. Sometimes the man was as flighty as rabbit. She kissed him again to punctuate what she was about to say. She guided him so that they were laying fully on the couch, his comforting weight settled between her legs. “I didn’t want you to think I was trying to take advantage of you...sleeping with your coach wasn’t how I wanted to win Last Note Standing, but know that I’ve wanted this for a long time. You’re a good man, Robert Gold.” 

He made another strangled sound deep in his throat as she tightened her legs behind his quivering butt and squeezed, encouraging him to slide into her. As the head of his cock breached her folds, she closed her eyes, relishing in the feelings tumbling one over the other inside her. After what felt like an eternity, he was all the way sheathed inside her and Belle had never felt more complete. 

She opened her eyes to find Robert gazing intently at her, one hand brushing a curl off her face. She’d miss the first opportunity to be brave, the situation taking care of that for her, so she was determined not to miss the second. 

“I love you, Robert Gold.” Filled with him and the warmed by his loving gaze, those words had never wrung as true in Belle’s head. 

Robert leaned down, brushing his lips against hers as light as a feather. The motion caused him to move within her and Belle moaned, the friction sending waves of pleasure through her body. Robert’s smirk ghosted over his face at her squirms before being replaced with a much more serious expression. 

“I love you too, Belle. So very much.” 

If it was possible to explode from so much happiness, Belle would have gladly done so. She was exactly where she wanted to be, on the brink of a career she loved and filled to the brim with love and pleasure alongside the man she’d wanted nothing more than to share it with. 

His words had ignited a deeper fire within her and she pressed against him to encourage him to move. He pulled back slightly before sliding in smoothly, picking up speed as he found a rhythm. Her hips tilted up of their own accord seeking out a way to take him even deeper. He thrust again and again, brushing not only a magical place within her, but placing wet, sipping kisses against her mouth and throat. 

Their moans mingled in the room, dancing with each other as much as their bodies were and Belle knew in that moment, both of them on their way to that place of joy, that this was the music her soul had always craved. 

This was perfect harmony.


End file.
